


Don't Leave Me

by PlayingChello



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Choking, Daddy Kink, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Not Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-10 00:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18648979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingChello/pseuds/PlayingChello
Summary: Five years.It’s been five years since Dante disappeared off the edge of the Qliphoth with Vergil, leaving Nero alone.





	Don't Leave Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewintercynic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewintercynic/gifts).



> Hello all! This was written for @theburningking on twitter. It was such a pleasure that I went 1.5k words over, haha. Hope you all enjoy!

Five years.

It’s been five years since Dante disappeared off the edge of the Qliphoth with Vergil, leaving Nero alone. He finally felt like he fit in with Dante, and even Vergil after they got over trying to kick each other’s asses. They were the same as him, he felt like there had been so much he could learn.

No one in Fortuna ever understood him.

When Dante showed up the first time… Nero had hated him. He came in and tore up his whole world, helped destroy his entire city, and then.

He left.

Barely talked to him again. The neon sign just showed up one day, just a note attached. ‘Thought you could use it -D’

Fucker. And then he showed up again and _damn_. The asshole went and called him dead weight. _Dead. Fucking. Weight_. Well, he showed him dead weight!

And then.

Five years.

Right when Nero was starting to realise that he might maybe… _feel_ something. He isn’t sure what, even though he’s had a long ass time to think about it. But he had wanted to find out. But that chance is gone now.

Nero has been living in the Devil May Cry shop for the last three years. Initially, after saving Redgrave City, Nero went back to Fortuna. He helped Kyrie with the orphans and he tried to forget about Dante and Vergil and all of that. He only went out with Nico in the van now and then, just to keep the worst of the residual attacks at bay. But mostly, he tried to be normal.

After two years, the sexual tension between Kyrie and Nico got too much to ignore. Nero had known for a while that he and Kyrie weren’t ever going to work romantically. They stayed together more out of convenience than anything else. But with Nico… Nero couldn’t stay when it was making Kyrie miserable to not explore a relationship with her.

So he left. Lady and Trish let him stay in the Devil May Cry office while he looked for a place of his own. But he never found a place of his own. And after a while, he stopped trying. He just became a permanent fixture in the shop, taking jobs and helping pay the bills. For three years. Just going through the motions and simply existing because there’s nothing really left for him. Because that’s all there is to do.

The phone rings and Nero sighs. He steps over to the desk, refusing to sit in the chair as he picks up the receiver. “Devil May Cry.”

It’s not even a job. It’s just Trish updating him that she and Lady will be out longer than they expected on their job. Nero assures her that he’s not going anywhere and the shop will be looked after. After he hangs up, he drags himself toward the kitchen in an attempt to eat _something_.

A knock at the door stops him before he can open the fridge.

Nero grabs a glass and fills it with some water before heading over to the door. The knocking grows insistent and he raises his voice, “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, hold your damn horses.”

Finally, he reaches the door and turns the lock so he can open the door.

The glass shatters before he even realises he’s dropped it.

“Nice to see you, too, kid.” It’s Dante. Dante is standing right there, looking exactly the fucking same as he had the last time Nero saw him _five years ago_. He’s got a stupid grin on his face and he looks like nothing even happened. If Nero hadn’t lived these last five years, he might not have guessed any time had passed. “You gonna let me in?”

Nero scowls deeply, “You _asshole_! It’s been five years, you _dick_! What the fuck are you doing back _now_?”

The grin on Dante’s face falters and his whole body seems to deflate. “Nero…”

“No, you don’t- you don’t get to come here and say my name like that. You don’t get to.” Nero can feel the tears burning at his eyes but he can’t help it. He’s been hoping Dante would come back, fearing he was dead, and yet here he is and all Nero can think to be is _angry_.

If it’s possible, Dante deflates further. “Can I come in?”

Nero stares at him for a long time, completely at a loss for words. Finally, he turns around and throws the door open wider. “It’s your damn place.”

He hears Dante’s footsteps follow him in slowly but he doesn’t turn around to look. “Seems like it’s more yours than mine, these days. You’ve been living here?”

“Don’t really have anywhere else to go, so yeah.” Even mad, Nero can’t really deny Dante anything.

“Really? Thought you and that Kyrie girl had something going on, why aren’t you with her?”

Nero scowls and finally turns around to face Dante, who is standing in the middle of the room, looking around. “Well when you and your girlfriend are both gay, the relationship doesn’t tend to last very long.”

“Let me guess,” Dante starts, self satisfied grin coming back, “it was the Goldstein girl, wasn’t it?”

“How did you- whatever. Did you need something? Want me to move out? Just give me a few days to figure something out and I’ll be gone.” He can’t handle this, Dante being back and he doesn’t know how to handle all of the things he’s feeling.

There’s a long silence in which Dante stares at him with this unreadable expression and there is this thick tension between them suddenly. Nero feels rooted to the spot. Frozen. Like all his muscles have seized up, paralysed.

Dante moves lightning fast. One moment he’s standing in the center of a mostly empty room, several feet from Nero, and the next his face is inches from Nero’s. “Nero, I don’t want you to leave. Do you want me to leave?”

Nero blinks, “What? It’s your damn shop! I can’t tell you to leave.”

“But you want to.” He doesn’t ask it as a question. He says it, as if it’s immutable truth.

Nero feels tears prickling at his eyes again. And heat in his cheeks. His nails dig into his palms from where he’s clutching his fists so hard. “No! I’m sick of you leaving me! All you fucking do is leave!”

Dante’s eyes go wide at the same time Nero’s do, realising what he’s just said. He’s never really been good at thinking before he speaks. Dante’s eyes dart between Nero’s for half a second and then suddenly, there are lips on his. A hand in his hair, pulling at the strands that have started getting long again.

Nero is paralysed again. He can’t move. He doesn’t lean in, but he doesn’t push away either. He can’t kiss back. He can’t do _anything_. Nero is stuck and Dante is _kissing_ him.

What feels like hours later, Dante pulls away with a frown, looking at Nero with this hurt, sad look. “I’m sorry, I’ll just…” He takes a couple steps back, moving away from a still entirely immobile Nero. He pauses then, just for a moment, looking at Nero with another unreadable expression. And then he walks away. Opens the door, and walks out of Devil May Cry.

Without Dante in the room, feeling seeps into Nero’s muscles at a painfully slow pace. The door clicks shut after Dante had left it and the sound of it finally spurs Nero into action.

He bolts.

At a dead run he throws the door open again and catches up to Dante fairly quickly. He’s barely down the street when Nero catches up to him, grabs his shoulder, and forces him to turn around. He crashes into him. The resulting kiss is wet and it takes Nero a moment to realise it’s because he’s crying. But he can’t let Dante leave him behind _again_. It’s not fair. It’s not ok.

Hands hold his head so gently, fingers in his hair, a thumb holding his chin still. He can feel Dante responding, letting Nero attack him with the intensity of everything he feels at once. And it feels _so damn good_. All at once, Nero realises that it was this that he wanted. This is what it feels like to _feel_. It’s addicting and he wants more.

Finally, they part. Nero is panting. From the sudden bolt to catch up with Dante or from the kiss, he can’t say, but it’s probably a combination of the two. He scowls and hardens his look at Dante, though he’s sure the tears still streaming down his face softens the effect. “You don’t get to leave this time, asshole.”

“I’m sorry.”

The words take the breath from Nero’s lungs. He hadn’t actually expected Dante to _apologise_. He’s not even sure Dante knows what he’s apologising for. But the sound of it makes Nero feel like maybe. Just maybe. Maybe Dante will stay this time.

A hand holds the side of Nero’s face, fingers brushing lightly along his jaw. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch despite himself. “I’m so sorry, Nero. I never meant- I’m just so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that, I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

Nero opens his eyes again to look into Dante’s. Something swims there that makes Nero feel like he can trust him, believe him. There’s such a deep sincerity in his words and in his eyes, maybe he can forgive him. Not now, right now there’s too much pain and it’s too raw. But Nero thinks he might be able to eventually.

They stand there for a long time, not speaking, just staring at each other. Nero doesn’t really know what to do, so he does nothing. Eventually, Dante clears his throat and offers a small smile, “We should go back inside.” Nero doesn’t answer, only nods. He’s not sure he can trust his voice right then anyway. His tears stopped flowing, but there’s still a lump in his throat that he tries and fails to swallow down. He lets Dante lead him back into the shop.

It isn’t until they hit the stairs that Nero’s brain starts working. “Where are we going?”

“Don’t know about you, kid, but I’m beat. Figure we could both use a nap.”

He wants to argue, but the truth is, he is exhausted. The last half hour was more emotional upheaval than he’d had to deal with in years. His feet drag while Dante holds him up on their way up the stairs and into the bedroom at the end of the hall.

Nero’s already falling asleep as Dante deposits him on the bed and climbs in with him, “Looks like someone made himself at home,” Dante jokes. Nero is too tired to come up with a snarky reply, so just waves Dante off and passes out moments later.

\--

Nero wakes with a solid body against his and a _ridiculously_ hard cock. His brain distantly remembers what had happened before he fell asleep, but in that moment, he doesn’t really care. Dante is _here_. And Nero has something for him to take care of. Call it… reparation or whatever. Making up for past sins.

He rolls over and throws an arm over the sleeping body next to him. He shimmies against Dante’s form, getting just a bit of much needed friction, and it only serves to light his nerves on fire with need. “Danteee,” he whines, grinding against his thigh and shoving his hand up under Dante’s shirt.

The other hybrid wakes and arms wrap around Nero warmly. “One hell of a way to wake up, kid.”

“Shuttup,” Nero slurs. He moves so he’s straddling Dante’s waist with both hands up his shirt, feeling his chest. “Should I stop?” He’s not an complete asshole, after all. And if Dante doesn’t want to do this, he’s got a left hand.

“Not if this is what you want.”

Oh, he wants it. He pushes Dante’s shirt up even further and tries to put on his sexiest voice. “Fuck me, Daddy.” He has no idea if it works and he feels his whole upper body heat with the flush from how embarrassed he is at having said such a thing.

But judging by the way Dante’s breath hitches and his hands grab Nero’s wrists with a bruising force, he did something right. “Sure you can handle me, baby boy?”

Nero twists his mouth in a scowl before deciding to lean into his whole seductive act. Worked once, why not again? “Want to feel you inside me, Daddy. Want you to make me come again and again. Please?” One the last word, he drags out the vowels a little bit and adds a little pout to his lips.

Dante’s whole body seems to tense up as he inhales sharply. Still, he tries to act like he isn’t affected as much as he clearly is. “Well, since you asked so nicely. I suppose you deserve a reward. You keep any lube in this place?”

Once more, Nero feels his body heat up intensely, as if telling Dante his bedside table has a bottle of half empty lube is worse than what they’re about to do. Still, he can’t help but feel embarrassed by it as he lays himself over the older man so he can root around his bottom drawer for the bottle. Fortunately, Dante seems to have the good sense not to comment on the location or the state of its use. Instead, he takes it from Nero and sets it aside on the table before letting his hands wander over Nero’s body.

It doesn’t take long before both of them are naked and panting into each other’s mouths. Nero’s still on top of Dante, somehow, but Dante seems to have taken control of the situation. His hands are on Nero’s hips and are keeping him too still to let him grind down against him. It’s _infuriating_. Nero just wants friction. He wants something, but right now, Dante is giving him _nothing_. “Nggh, Dante, please…”

That gets him something. It gets Dante to reach back over to the bedside table and cover his hand in lube. The implications of the action have Nero whining these high pitched sounds. He tries to grind down against Dante again, but Dante catches him and stops him right before putting a lube coated finger to his ass. “Patience, baby boy. Good boys get their reward.”

A chill runs up Nero’s spin at the dark sound of Dante’s voice. He forces himself to be still, despite how much effort he has to put into not moving. He’s desperate, and the slow pace Dante fingers him with is nowhere near satisfying enough for what he wants, what he _needs_. But something drives him to obey, something drives him to stay still and let Dante torture him with slow, lazy fingers.

He’s focusing so hard on keeping still, that he doesn’t even realise when Dante pulls his fingers away until he’s got something much larger pushing into him. Nero lets out a moan that, under normal circumstances, would have him very embarrassed. As it stands, he can’t care because Dante feels too damn good inside him.

Still, everything is slow. Dante is making these quiet, low little sounds of effort that are stupidly arousing while Nero feels so _full_. Dante is far better than his fingers ever could have been. And when Dante is finally fully seated inside him, Nero has to take several deep breaths just to keep from passing out from how intense it is.

And then Dante touches him.

He should be embarrassed that Dante literally just barely touches him before he’s coming. He should be. But he’s too out of his mind from the pleasure of it to care. His brain is foggy and clouded with the most incredible orgasm of his life.

It takes him some time to come down enough to remember where he is. With Dante patiently laying below him, still inside him, looking up at him with an expression somewhere between amusement and arousal. “That didn’t take much.”

Nero scowls, “Shut up.” He nuzzles against Dante’s naked chest, “I told you I wanted to come again and again, didn’t I? Don’t think you’re finished that easy, old man.”

Dante chuckles and it moves Nero enough that he is reminded Dante is still _very hard_ inside of him. “Oh, I think I’ve got plenty left in me, if you can stand it, baby boy.”

“I’d like to see you try, _Daddy_.” This time, it’s Nero that moves, rocking his hips and managing to pull a gasp from Dante. He’s still hyper sensitive from his orgasm, but he’s determined to continue. Nero takes control of the pace, rocking his hips to get himself used to the sensation of overstimulation before beginning a seductive pace. He doesn’t go too fast or hard, still sensitive and trying not to show it. But Dante doesn’t seem to mind if the way he’s groaning out a slew of words about how pretty Nero is, what a good boy. It all serves to make Nero very warm and he’s hard again before too long.

His pace picks up as the oversensitivity fades and he’s just craving more. He leans down and kisses Dante, needing more of a connection, just needing _more_. He gasps into the kiss when the change in angle has Dante hitting him in such a way that it drives him insane. “Daddy…” he whines, and it only takes a couple more thrusts at this delicious angle to send him into a second orgasm. It’s not as earth shattering as the first had been, but it still sends him into this state of nothingness from the intensity.

When he comes back to himself, he’s on his back and Dante is gently rocking into him. “Hey there, baby boy. Lost you for a second. You good?”

“Don’t stop,” he cries, tears of oversensitivity in his eyes. His hands grasp at the sheets and he’s glad once more that he has two normal arms so he’s not actively shredding them. He’s also glad Dante flipped them. He feels boneless and spent and he doesn’t have the energy to keep up being on top. He figures two orgasms gives him the right to be a pillow princess though.

Not that Dante seems to mind.

He’s staring him down with this expression that might scare Nero later, but it’s so full of love and lust that right now it just feels _right_. It’s too much and not enough but it’s perfect and Nero stares right back up at him, mirroring him. He pours his want and his need and his desperation into his eyes, hoping it all makes it through to Dante.

And then he grabs Dante’s wrist.

Until then, Dante had one hand propping up Nero’s leg and the other resting on his chest. Nero grabs at the one on his chest, pushing it upwards. When Dante’s hand is finally at his neck, he stops, nails pressing into the skin of Dante’s wrist. He looks into Dante’s eyes, his own eyes half lidded and mindless. “Choke me, Daddy.”

Something changes in Dante’s eyes. Not really, because all of the emotions are still there, nothing actually changes in that way. But lust suddenly dominates everything else in the expression. Fingers curl around Nero’s throat and tighten just enough to make his gasp smaller from lack of air. Enough for him to feel a little lightheaded from the reduced blood flow to his brain.

It’s _perfect_.

It has him coming again. Dry, a pathetic pulse of barely there dribble of come leaking from his tip. But it _feels_ just as good as the first two. And something about that seems to set Dante off, because suddenly his hips are stuttering against Nero’s and then he stops, deep within him.

Dante takes a long time before he seems to be aware enough to move. When he does, he gently removes himself from Nero and lets Nero’s legs stretch out before rolling to lay next to him. “Fuck.”

Nero smiles, throwing a hand over his forehead and turning to look over at Dante. “Fuck is right.”

Dante’s head falls to return Nero’s gaze. “Daddy, huh?”

One of Nero’s hands shoots out slap Dante across his stomach, “Shuttup.”

“No, I liked it, just didn’t expect it.” Dante smiles. Then, a few moments later, his expression falls. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

Leave it to Dante to kill such a good post orgasm mood. “No, but it means I’ll get there. Eventually. You got some work to do, old man. Starting with not leaving me behind. Ever. Again.”

Dante rolls onto his side and yanks Nero closer, spooning him tightly and tossing a leg over his. His mouth is right at Nero’s ear like this, hot breath tickling the hair there. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

For some reason, Nero believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/playingchello).


End file.
